


Transient

by threewalls



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: 707 OV, Alternate Ending, Angst, Balfonheim, Break Up, F/M, M/M, Mid-Game, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-15
Updated: 2009-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>She stopped a short way down Saccio Lane, to allow Balthier to catch her there. Nowhere in Balfonheim was truly private, but there, at least, they were bound on two sides by water. Yet even after he had caught his breath, Balthier seemed to not know what to say.</cite></p><p><cite>Fran began for him. "You did not return to the manse last night, nor did Basch."</cite></p><p>Post-Giruvegan, Pre-Pharos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transient

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Only Natural](https://archiveofourown.org/works/152808) by [threewalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls). 



Fran found Balthier within the Whitecap tavern by following her ears. He was telling someone a story, an epic tale spun from a series of events earlier in their partnership. The embellishments made her smile, as did the movements of his hands when she saw them, his rings glittering in the sunlight pouring through the wide, open windows. The light also warmed Basch's golden hair. He sat beside Balthier, rarely speaking but laughing in all the appropriate places. Fran waited on the stairs, charmed by the view.

Basch took a quaff of his ale, leaving a thick line of foam over his upper lip, a second moustache. Balthier paused in his tale, placed his hand on Basch's thigh and leant forward, licking away the foam. For a few seconds, it was a kiss.

"I don't think it's viera that takes their fancy, darling."

Fran did not acknowledge the drunken pirate passing her on the stairs, but turned and strode for the door.

\---

"Fran! No, wait!"

The ocean had not been calm since they had destroyed the Sun Cryst. Fran could feel the pull and ebb of the Jagd Naldoa then even on land, each step across the plaza like walking across the deck of a seaship.

"Fran!"

She stopped a short way down Saccio Lane, to allow Balthier to catch her there. Nowhere in Balfonheim was truly private, but there, at least, they were bound on two sides by water. Yet even after he had caught his breath, Balthier seemed to not know what to say.

Fran began for him. "You did not return to the manse last night, nor did Basch."

"It's hard to explain."

"You like him, and you have stopped running from such things."

"I'm sorry. Last night-- I don't want to give you pretty excuses, but I am so sorry, Fran."

"I will not lack for friendly company here."

Balthier flinched, but he was hume and sometimes needed reminding that she was not. The last time Balthier had bedded her had been the time they'd fallen together to celebrate perfecting Balthier's leaping from the airbike while she drove. But, by the time Balthier had given all the foreplay he desired to give, her need had passed, and they both slept unsatisfied. Fran did not think he had had such difficulties, such mismatches of appetite with Basch, who looked touch-hungry still.

"Two days time, Fran," Balthier said, a sigh, and he did not look up to meet her eyes. "The Aerodrome."

Fran felt the fit of his tall frame against hers, a shock of warmth where his sleeves touched her arms that came so quick she only perceived it after he had already stepped away. The perfume of his skin remained a moment more, before being drowned out by the fruity stench of street refuse and the brine of the ocean.

Basch had been watching them from the head of the lane. His eyes dropped from Fran to note Balthier walking towards him, then back to catch Fran nod at him. He nodded back. They would be all right. Perhaps not tonight, the line of Balthier's shoulders was tight under his shirt, but they would be well.

Fran watched the ocean, and waited for the land to steady under her feet.

**Author's Note:**

> What a difference two years of plot (or just the game ending) can make, right?


End file.
